


Touch

by lemonbronze



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Autism, Very light ship content, vignettes basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:34:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26644567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonbronze/pseuds/lemonbronze
Summary: A short look at Abed's relationship with touch throughout his life.
Relationships: Troy Barnes/Abed Nadir
Comments: 10
Kudos: 100





	Touch

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Thanks for reading! This is my first foray into Community fanfiction. As an autistic adult myself, I love Abed and his representation of autism. I wanted to explore his experience with touch and sensory input a little bit, so I hope this is acceptable!

He's little; he doesn't remember how little, but his mother is there, so he knows he must be very young. She's holding him, and he's clinging to her, and there's something warm in the tactile feedback. It's a welcome, gentle touch, and he falls asleep there, peaceful and calm.

But when he wakes up again, everything is chaos and terror; something isn't right somewhere, something is making a strange noise, _make it stop, make it stop_ \--and he doesn't feel any of the peace his mother's arms gave him before. He's alone, and he screams, and cries, and the sound doesn't stop, and he just wants someone to touch him and remind him that everything can be okay again.

But this time, when his mother finally comes for him, her touch is harsh and rough. She grabs him, not to injure him, but in a way that tells him in no uncertain terms that she's angry. 

Is she angry at him? Did he do something wrong? He cries harder at the thought, and that makes everything worse.

In the months to come, lots of little things make him scream and cry. Sometimes it's a sound, but sometimes it's a scratchy shirt or a room that's too hot or too cold, or his father's strong cologne, or his favorite TV show switching time slots, or...

His mother touches him less and less. Her comforting hugs and words are few and far between.

One day, he hears his parents screaming at each other, so he screams too, not knowing what else to do. His mother's touch never comes then, and it never comes again after that, either.

-

As he grows into an older child, touch becomes something he actively avoids. His father never touches him--not to comfort him, but also not to hit him, which he will feel grateful for later in life--and his mother never returns. He finds it difficult to make friends at school, so he doesn't play or hug or wrestle or try sports or hug or hug or hug.

Touch avoids him, so he avoids touch.

Sometimes, his clothes feel wrong against his skin, he forgets to cut the tag out of a new shirt before wearing it, his backpack isn't distributed the right way across his shoulders, or he gets paint on his hands during art class at school. At those times, he wants to scream, but he doesn't anymore, because screaming makes people leave. So he just whines.

There is one kind of touch that feels right, even if it isn't warm: his big squashy blanket. It's bright green and feels heavy, at least to a scrawny child. After school every day, he lays on the floor underneath it with only his eyes and nose poking out, waiting to watch his favorite TV shows until he goes to bed.

Then he wakes up the next day and battles everything all over again.

-

He's a preteen when he learns how bad touch can really be. He has a few friends, and even has his first date, but for the most part he remains at the bottom rung of the middle school social ladder. He never hurts other people or bullies anyone, but most of them tell him he's weird and creepy anyway.

One day, some boys from his class sit beside him on the playground. When he tries to talk to them, he hears words about his favorite TV series tumbling out of his mouth as his volume gets louder, and before he can stop himself, his fingers are dancing and he's wiggling in uncontrolled happiness as he talks. He's enjoying himself, but the other boys laugh at him, mimic and mock him, and eventually drag him out of sight of any teachers and hit him.

He doesn't understand what happened, but just like when his mother left, he knows he did something wrong.

He doesn't tell his father, even though it keeps happening. He starts wearing thick clothes even in the hot weather to keep the punches from landing quite so hard.

-

In high school, he's shoved into lockers. It's almost a welcome change from the feeling of being beaten up regularly just for being himself, because at least he doesn't go home with more than a few scratches when this happens.

But he hates the way the cold metal of the locker feels against his skin. He can always sense it on the back of his neck, on his palms, on his cheeks if he turns his head to the side, and it's a disgusting feeling. Sometimes this sensory overload makes him whine like he did as a child, and he hates hearing it. Sometimes the bullies hear him and make fun of him for that, too.

It's hardly a coincidence that he gets deeply involved in superhero movies and TV shows at the same time. Superheroes are almost always nobodies until they get their powers. Sometimes they're also bullied or mistreated just for being who they are. But they find a new kind of strength and rise above it all, staying true to themselves and beating the bad guys at the same time.

He gets so caught up in superhero movies that he starts dabbling in their technical side, learning about special effects, filmmaking, storyboarding...

He dreads facing school every day, but his interests keep him moving.

\- 

When he finally makes it to college, he realizes he's expected to shake hands with people now and then. It's usually professors, and he can muster up enough mental stamina to give a quick handshake to someone in a position of authority over him, but he can't do it when meeting fellow students.

And then he meets some students who don't mind, who don't even expect something like that from him, and who listen to him when he talks. In each one of them, he sees a different archetype from the media he's been devouring his whole life, and he finds it easy to love them all for it, almost immediately.

He's grateful for his flat affect, because without it, they'd be able to tell how terrified he is talking to them for the first time.

He fidgets quietly with a pencil under the table in the study room and soaks them all in. He doesn't know what he did right, but he's glad to be here.

-

Even though he can count the number of good friendships he's had on one hand, he falls quickly into step alongside Troy. Troy is younger than he is, but bridges the gap between childhood and adulthood beautifully, and Abed realizes they're both in the same place mentally. They may squabble from time to time, but they never bully each other, never make fun of each other, never shove each other into lockers, and always have each other's backs when it matters.

Abed doesn't know how to describe his feelings about Troy, because he isn't sure what they are. They're cool. Troy is cool, too.

They make up a secret handshake, which isn't so secret since everyone sees them do it all the time. But it's their special shared touch, so it's important.

As they become closer friends, Troy starts instinctively grabbing Abed's hand when something surprising or frightening happens. Abed never initiates this touch--touch is still too scary, too difficult to read, and he doesn't know what will happen if he starts it--but he never stops it, either. At first, he doesn't know what to do when it happens, but by the third or fourth time, he is lightly gripping Troy's hand in return.

Sometimes, Troy hugs him, and every other tactile sensation and sensory input in the world melts away. This feeling is not unlike his big green blanket from childhood, but it's better, and it smells like Troy, too. Even a quick hug can cause this reaction, and it takes everything Abed has within himself to behave normally afterwards.

One day, he tells Troy that he can't remember the last time he was hugged before Troy started doing it. That's a lie; he can clearly remember the last time his mother hugged him in a loving way, but he isn't ready to share that memory yet.

Troy looks at him in that way Abed hasn't figured out yet and asks if they can keep hugging. When Abed agrees, Troy wraps him in an embrace unlike any other he's ever felt before, and his heart starts beating in his ears.

He wraps his arms around Troy's neck in return and hopes this touch never goes away.


End file.
